Imperfect
by TheImperious
Summary: When sempi notices you, but banishes you from warpspace, it kinda hurts. I hope you like the short fluff for my Slaaneshi Warp Talon champion, freshly afflicted with wounded pride.


**Imperfect**

 _Imperfect, imperfect?_ The word kept echoing in its mind. It's what 'it' was. The word described it, perfectly. Its lord had rejected it. Without even a sneer Azazel had banished it from the warp. It had no idea were in the galaxy it had ended up. It didn't even remember what any of its names had been. It didn't care. It had a new name, _Imperfect._

Imperfect dragged itself through the snow and biting wind. It didn't mind the cold, but real-space made its bones ache and its muscles snap and spasm. Even the blood in its veins felt like stale soup. It drudged on without direction. Imperfect's mind was too preoccupied to feel the snow in its talons or claws. It simply carried onward, only half aware that if is body stopped, it would lay down and die with both its hearts broken. It was Imperfect but it would not be vulnerable, never again, _never again._

Day turned to night and back to dawn. The morning breeze lulled then reversed itself, and with it Imperfect caught an aroma in the air. It was acidic and sweet. It raced on all fours up another glittering dune of snow. In the twilight of the rising sun Imperfect saw an imperial promethium pipeline. The anticipation that swelled within its chest was almost more than it could stand. It had been a dozen life times since it had shed man blood in real-space. It knew it was Imperfect. But the pathetic inhabitance of whatever world this happen to be were less then imperfect.

In a flash Imperfect found itself descending onto the pipeline from above. It had nearly forgotten what wind in its wings felt like. It landed with a crunch and the steel bent under its weight. It galloped onward over the pipe and sailed over the snow mounds that rose to cover it. It was certain it had found victims. Soon and they would pay. Pay for their existence, pay for their proximity to Imperfect's coming.

Imperfect galloped for another two days and nights. Every step reminded its body what real space felt like. Every inch the smell of machines and men grew stronger. Finally, in the starry sky over head, it could see twinkling rocket trails racing to and froe. It was close. Another hour and the walls came into view. Twenty minutes more and it had scaled them. All the doors were sealed against the cold but men were here, Imperial men. It was an Imperial syphoning station after all. It was salivating at the overwhelming musk of oily flesh all around it.

Imperfect darted through the blue shadows, steeling towards the nearest watch tower. Slowly, silently it squeezed the cherub face at the door's controls until the thing was crushed it in its palm. Gingerly the outsider slid the broken door ajar, then closed again behind itself. The beast's evil apatite swelled with a meal so near.

No one heard its sickeningly silent foot fall as it entered the barrack. No one saw its heinous form approach. The first man probably didn't even realize that he was dead, but the others did. Imperfect could smell their amusement turn to shock, then to fear. Playing cards went flying as the tabled was upturned. Four men yelled bloody murder drawing their pistols and knifes with all the haste they could.

Imperfect took its time, its body of warpflesh moved faster than these few mortal men would ever know. It wrenched its claws free of the fist kill and spun low on its knees across the room. Bright las bolts flashed over its head as its claw came up in a sweeping arch through one man's center. With a tremendous flap of its wings Imperfect sent a gust of wind through the guardhouse with such force as to knock the nearset two men off their feet. Before they could right themselves Imperfect stomped them both into the rockcrete, cracking it under foot.

The last man had turned to run but his legs were weak with terror. Imperfect plucked him from the ground by his head. The man flailed wildly crying for deliverance from the ether nightmare made flesh. His god didn't seem to hear him.

Imperfect turned its victim around to see the man's face. There was no comparison. Imperfect might have been human once, it might have been an astartes. The weeping snot covered face before it stirred memories of a butchery on old Terra. The nostalgia felt like a misremembered dream. Imperfect had been flawed in that life time as well, but hadn't known it. It had been ignorant in its liberation and drunk in fresh revelry. Yet as it had taken more and more blessings into its body, Imperfect had known there was a creeping fear inside him. It feared something less than beautiful remained at its center. Something hidden from its own eyes, but something Azazel's perfect sight had noticed in an instant. A fault that was mingled with the essence of Imperfect's every existence, just like this wretched man-child in its claws.

Imperfect began to laugh with a heinous gutter yipping as the sour stink of incontinent shame reach its nostrils. For the moment, there was only one thing that separated it from this man, power.

"Imperfect!" It howled down at the man before it sunk its dozens of needle fangs into the man's neck.

The beast savored steamy richness over its tongue until the corpse had turned white. Man-blood, it had been a very long time. The taste made its hearts race with excitement. It was imperfect, but in this moment, it was superior. And that was a damn fine substitute.


End file.
